As Damian and Sasha made their way back to Oscar's supply store, the atmosphere in the streets was tense. The distant sounds of chaos echoed from various parts of the quarantine zone—clashes between Reapers and those trying to survive, the occasional explosion or gunfire. Despite the turmoil, they moved unbothered.

When they arrived at the supply store, they found the door slightly ajar. Pushing it open, they stepped inside to find Dallas sitting at a new computer setup in the corner. His fingers flew across the keyboard, typing with such intensity that he didn’t even notice them enter. His brow was furrowed in concentration, his eyes glued to the screen.

Damian walked over, a slight smile tugging at his lips as he watched Dallas work. It wasn’t until they were practically standing right behind him that Dallas finally looked up. He jolted in surprise, nearly falling out of his chair.

“Whoa!” Dallas exclaimed, clutching his chest. “You guys need to stop sneaking up on people like that!”

Damian chuckled, unfazed. “Looks like you’re busy at work, partner. What are you doing?”

Dallas sighed, running a hand through his hair as he regained his composure. “If I’m going to give the citizens information, it needs to be better. More reliable. I’ve been setting up the new network—one that works off the First Son’s dishes. I’ve also been trying to get into DARPA’s system and get people the news they actually need.”

“Sounds like you’re on the right track.” Damian’s voice was smooth, almost approving. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. “But let me give you some more information. This might help.”

Dallas raised an eyebrow as Damian handed him the paper. He unfolded it and quickly scanned the contents. His eyes widened as he read the words:

* DARPA will drop some relief packages in Archer Square tomorrow morning.

* The lockdown won’t end because there’s a plague in the quarantine zone.

* We’ve been abandoned by the government.

Dallas looked up, his face a mixture of shock and concern. "Wait... is this real?" His voice was shaky, as if the weight of what he was reading was just sinking in. "Are you saying this is happening right now? DARPA, the plague...the government’s just leaving us here?"

Damian’s smile didn’t falter. “No I’m saying it already did. The citizens need to know the truth. You wanted to give them the information they need? Well, this is it. Panic isn’t the goal—we want them aware.”

Dallas rubbed his temples, clearly overwhelmed. “This is... this is huge. People are already scared, Damian. If I tell them this, it could cause chaos.”

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“That’s why you need to be smart about it,” Sasha chimed in, her voice cold and direct. “Frame it as a warning, not a death sentence. Tell them the truth, but give them hope. It’s all about how you deliver the message.”

“Can I ask how you got this information?” asked Dallas

Damian reached down and began picking up the scattered paper. “No, you can’t. Anyway, we just came to let you know we’ll both be away for half a day. So don’t be so careless with the door. Make sure to lock the door. Stay safe and keep the place clean.”

Damian and Sasha stepped out of the store, their footsteps echoing in the now-empty streets. The air felt heavy with anticipation as they began their journey toward the Historic District, the heart of the First Sons' operations. Their path was one of precision and calculated moves—any misstep could expose them and unravel everything.

Sasha moved beside Damian, her presence dark and quiet, like a shadow keeping pace. "So, we're going in there and risking everything for a few pieces of RFE-charged debris?" she asked, her tone neutral, though Damian could detect the skepticism beneath it.

Damian glanced sideways at her, his smile never fading. "Not just debris. We're looking for more than that. RFE-infused material could give us the edge we need to fuel our projects. But the real prize is the information. The engineers, scientists... the secrets hidden in their minds. The Ray Sphere tech. We could do a lot with that."

Sasha gave a slight nod. "Assuming we get in undetected. Remember Kessler is Cole so he can sense other conduits."

Damian’s eyes glinted with confidence. "We will and we’ll avoid the man. They’ll be stretched thin. When they send their extraction team to the Jefferson Tunnel to retrieve you after your fight with Cole, they’ll leave the headquarters vulnerable. We slip in, disguised as one of their own—as someone, we’ll consume—and we’ll have all the time we need."

Sasha’s lips curved into a small smile. “You think it’s going to be that simple? To consume someone we have to be able to get inside first. And sure, once we get the memories we can fake a few things, but engineers tend to be more detail-orientated. The longer we’re around them the faster they’ll notice something’s off.”

Damian shrugged casually. “You’ll figure it out. You always do. I have faith in you.”

As Damian and Sasha made their way toward the Warren, the streets were eerily quiet. The distant sounds of conflict were ever-present, but nothing immediately threatened them—until they saw him.

Walking toward them was a man, bald, blind in one eye, with a large stitched scar running across his head. He wore a dark green trench coat, and several pieces of scrap metal had been fashioned into makeshift armor around his neck and left shoulder. His left leg was braced by a metal crutch, and he leaned on a cane to help him walk. The sight of him made Damian tense up instinctively. This was no ordinary man.

It was Alden Tate—the leader of the Dust Men and a very powerful conduit.

Damian's pulse quickened, but he kept his expression neutral, hoping Alden would simply walk by without engaging. Starting a fight here would draw too much attention, and he knew they couldn't afford that right now. Not with so many eyes on the Warren and the Historic District.

The man turned his head toward them, and for a moment, Damian thought they were going to have no choice. Alden’s single good eye locked onto them, and time seemed to slow. Sasha, ever reactive, began to shift, her body subtly preparing to transform, but Damian quickly placed a hand on her back. He shook his head, silently telling her to stand down. A fight wasn’t what they needed right now.

To their relief, Alden continued walking. His crutch scraped against the ground, his cane tapping with each uneven step. He passed them without a word, and the tension in the air dissipated—if only slightly.

Damian and Sasha exchanged a quick glance before resuming their walk. They picked up the pace, eager to put distance between themselves and the Dust Men leader. Whatever Alden was doing out here, Damian didn’t want to know, nor did he want to get involved. Their objective was clear, and Alden was an unnecessary complication.